


Endless Ticking Time Bomb

by charliebradcherry



Series: Samifer Love Week 2016 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Control Issues, Inmate Lucifer, Inmate Sam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliebradcherry/pseuds/charliebradcherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe he fucking detested this man sometimes. He hated how relentless he was, how annoying and needy and pushy and aroused he could be. How Lucifer adored teasing him and pushing all of his buttons, loved to watch him become a ball of fire ready to destruct the environment. But he was like a bomb that never set off, since Lucifer knew that Sam couldn’t do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endless Ticking Time Bomb

**Author's Note:**

> Prison AU. Hell yeah.
> 
> Tumblr: **charlie-bradcherry.tumblr.com**

“I can’t believe I’m sitting with _you_ in jail out of all people.”  
  
Sam huffed through his nose in pain at the sharp stinging burn that flashed across his skin, sharp teeth nailing right into the pulse point of his neck, leaving evidence of claiming behind that was conspicuous to everyone who would walk past him from now on. There was a soft chuckle vibrating against his flesh, a hum of satisfaction that lowered into a dangerous, possessive growl.  
  
The orange fabric he wore wrinkled noisily as fingers clipped into them, tugging Sam’s body firmly against the other inmate’s chest.  
  
“There’s so much innocence weaving within your soul, and I could just rip it all back out, you know that?”  
  
Despite how intimidating his jail partner genuinely looked like, his voice was as smooth as molten butter dripping off of a whisk. A crunchy sound like biting into a crispy chocolate cookie whenever he was sleepy and otherwise just flat like a tune sung with a solo note. It sent invisible bugs crawling about Sam’s skin, causing him to tremor in want and leap on place when it was unexpected.  
  
“I can pin you right here with your wrists bound to the metal above your head, your lips tied with mine, and my cock brushing over yours until you come into your pants like a horny little teenager–make you _sin_ ,” Lucifer sighed. He studied Sam’s chestnut curls that bounced as the young man spun his head back to look at him with wide eyes, curiosity and nervosity blended together within them and fairly evident. “And _still_ , you’d stay as innocent as you are.”  
  
Sam took a moment to let those words sink into his brain before he scowled.  
  
“You _petty piece of shit_ ,” he bit back suddenly and attempted to wriggle out of Lucifer’s tight grasp on him, but he was unable to escape with all of the force he maintained. “You can’t tell me what I am! I am _not_ –”  
  
“Trying to lur your way out of this with all of your pretty effortless little attempts at hurting me _don’t_ affect me one bit, Sam.” the man grinned, and placed soft, tender kisses along Sam’s neckline, over the imprinted holes carved into his skin of Lucifer’s canines that would leave a bruise in the future. The action surprisingly put Sam at ease again, and he regulated his breathing which turned into shallow puffs later on, “I’ve memorized you upclose, and I know you’re just trying to play tough with me here.”  
  
Sam wanted to scream and batter the man away, kick Lucifer in the jaw and hear one of his bones break–he really _craved_ it; the distinct snapping sound and moans of pain dancing out of the man’s mouth. All of that fury was locked inside his mind, and the key was swallowed down by Lucifer during their first kiss.  
  
“ _You don’t know me_ …”  
  
“We’ve been together in this cell for about six months, sugar. I know you very well. Better than _anyone else_ here in this claustrophobic lockup.”  
  
“No, you don’t understand…” Sam whispered, his breathing turning rigid again as he pulled violently away from Lucifer’s grip and succeeded this time. He sat a few inches further from the man to keep himself distanced from everything for a moment. He needed to breathe and see, required some space between them. “Before I came here, I was a different person.”  
  
He wanted to commence a normal conversation for once, wanted to tell a story about how he grew up to be a college boy and how all of that got ruined later on because he knew that Lucifer, despite how truly tiresome and infuriating he could be, was _very_ good at listening. Instead, Sam got interrupted when his eyes perceived that mischievous grin that spread wide across the elder man’s face again. And if he could just punch it off somehow, _or kiss it all away_.  
  
But no, Sam wasn’t stupid. He would only help extending it.  
  
“You have no idea what it really feels like to be from behind these bars, huh?”  
  
Lucifer leaned back against the dirty, solid wall made of bricks and exhaled lazily as if he didn’t really care, “Nope.”  
  
“There’s life out there.” Sam started and let his eyes trail down to his bare feet, his ankles soiled with mud, “There’s people, there’s villages and cities, there’s a sky that’s either bright or dark, there’s trees and grass, there’s some new kind of communication, there’s a world–there’s _home_.”  
  
If anything, this wasn’t the right time to start a sob story. The inmates that resided in the other cells were busy hollering at each other like a bunch of untamed gorillas, shaking the metal bars and kicking their feet at the ground to express their irritation at the guards. There was something about this paticular place that gave you this eerie feeling whenever you walked down the aisle and watched muscled gangs beating up newcomers, mostly kids that were somewhere around the age of twenty.  
  
Sam had arrived here with no knowledge about how anything worked in a jail. He was handed a uniform and directly being led to his cell. He expected people who would hide away in the sinister corners of their assigned chambers and turn away from him, people who would rather spent their time in silence than talking to Sam. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case here. Though this jail was still far worse than Sam would’ve liked to dwell in for the upcoming year, because the guards did nothing about random brawls and watched heedlessly as blood splattered everywhere over concrete which the other inmates would always have to clean up afterwards. And those morons _still_ got paid.  
  
“I haven’t been home in a long, _long_ time, Sammy,” Lucifer said, breaking through Sam’s thoughts, “Hell, t’s'been what… _five years now?_ ”  
  
The man chuckled humorlessly with a roll of his eyes at the realization and turned to lie down, his legs stretched and sprawled carelessly over Sam’s lap as he crossed his arms behind his head.  
  
“Yeah man, I’m used to living in this lousy kennel. It’s like one of those shitty ass motel rooms you rent for a few days to stay at that hasn’t been dusted for three months, you know what I mean?” he said and scratched his stubble, not awaiting a response, “This living Hell is my home.”  
  
Sam subconsciously placed his hands on Lucifer bare knees and caressed the rough skin with his fingertips. All of that wrath that was spiking in his system had melted away and been substituted by peacefulness, _empathy_ , even though he knew very well that if he’d make a sympathic comment, Lucifer would merely look at him with that smile and make a sardonic statement about his ‘adorable puppy eyes’ in return. Apparently they added a ton more innocence to him, which didn’t please Sam all too much if he had to be honest.  
  
“I don’t believe this is your home.”  
  
Lucifer blinked lazily and turned to look at Sam, who was beaming so discreetly as he focused on tracing curvy lines over his leg.  
  
“You’re right,” he jibed and smirked coquettishly, “ _You’re_ my home.”  
  
Sam didn’t like to be mocked, but he could distinguish the differences between sincerity and sardonicsm laced with Lucifer’s usual remarks. And this was _sincerity_.  
  
“Cool your jets, sappy dork.”  
  
“Mmmm,” Lucifer tilted his head and laughed, before reaching out and grabbing ahold of one of Sam’s arm, “Come ‘ere.”  
  
The younger man moved and scrambled over Lucifer’s stomach to lie on top of him before he buried himself into the man like a burrito, purring contently at the fingers that slipped into his hair and combed through the few knots, loosening them.  
  
Maybe he fucking detested this man sometimes. He hated how relentless he was, how annoying and needy and pushy and aroused he could be. How Lucifer adored teasing him and pushing all of his buttons, loved to watch him become a ball of fire ready to destruct the environment. But he was like a bomb that never set off, since Lucifer knew that Sam couldn’t do it.  
  
Because behind all of those new explored stirring sensations of sheer anger he could feel ever since he became acquainted with this place, he would always stay that innocent little college boy that would’ve _never_ touched any kind of drugs in his life.


End file.
